


The Center of the Sun

by MuggleMaybe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff, Marauders' Era, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuggleMaybe/pseuds/MuggleMaybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andromeda Black caves in to her feelings for a certain Hufflepuff Quidditch player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Center of the Sun

_She had a major problem._

Platform 9 ¾ was crowded with students returning from the Christmas holidays, but Andromeda barely noticed the hustle and bustle. Beside her, Narcissa tugged impatiently on her elbow and stomped a foot. “Come on, Andie! It’s freezing out here. Besides, I’ve got to find Lucius before he leaves for the Prefects meeting.”

She resisted rolling her eyes with difficulty. Of course nothing mattered more than Cissy and her bloody perfect pureblood of a boyfriend. All holiday, mother had gone on and on about how wonderful a match it was, that the Malfoys were such a _respectable_ family, loyal to the cause, well established… her little sister could not have chosen a more acceptable mate. The fact that Malfoy was an arrogant, insufferable arse didn’t seem to bother anyone but Andromeda.

“Andie, come on!” Her voice was an octave more dangerous this time.

“Go on, I’ll catch up in a bit.” Cissy glared at her, so Andromeda added, “I’ve got something to do before the meeting. Head Girl stuff.”

“Merlin, Andie, you’re such a dweeb,” the blonde answered, but the lie was enough to get Narcissa off her back for the time being.

The moment her sister disappeared onto the train, Andromeda returned her gaze covertly to a fellow seventh year farther down the platform. He was tall and well built, his sandy blonde hair messy from throwing his head back in laughter. His parents stood with him, conspicuous in their Muggle clothing. They were painfully clueless, but they loved him. It was clear in the way they smiled, the matching dimpled smiles of father and son, his mother’s hands adjusting his black and gold scarf. What would that be like, to actually love your parents? She couldn’t fathom it.

The family was hugging now, saying their goodbyes. She watched the boy wave and turn away, hoisting his trunk behind him. He was a Muggleborn, a Hufflepuff, and, judging by the state of his worn trunk and clothing, rather poor. There could scarcely be a less respectable wizard in the world in her parents’ eyes. So why did her own eyes stick to him like honey, and why did she find the sight every bit as sweet?

Oh, yes, something was definitely wrong with her.

*

As the term got underway, Andromeda tried to forget about Ted Tonks. She snogged more blokes that January than she had in her first six and a half years at Hogwarts put together, hoping one of them would wipe the Muggleborn from her mind. She even caved in to Narcissa’s prodding and accepted a Hogsmeade invitation from Rabastan Lestrange, whose advances she’d been steadfastly ignoring for the past three terms.

It didn’t work.

Worse yet, she seemed to encounter Ted everywhere, far more often than chance ought to have allowed. If she studied at the library, he’d arrive at the next table. When she visited the owlery, he’d be there sending a parcel with a school owl. Even when she cloistered herself in the Slytherin commonroom, where surely she should have been free from him, his name sounded from the discussions of Quidditch among the house team as they debated their chances at the next match. There was no escape.

What really frightened her, though, wasn’t that she couldn’t escape him. It was that she didn’t want to.

The final months of her education passed in a blur, and amid her NEWT studies and Head Girl duties, Andromeda pushed her wanting farther and farther down, silencing it with all her might. But the deeper she pushed it, the more it settled in her heart, and by the time the winter snows thawed she could’ve sworn her very pulse beat the rhythm of his name.

Her friends coerced her into attending the final Quidditch match of the year, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to care about the score. Instead she spent three hours watching Ted Tonks fly, saving goals like he’d been born on a broomstick. Why he, of all people, should be so interesting was beyond her. There was simply something about him that made it difficult not to smile. Perhaps it was the determined glint in his dark eyes, even if she couldn’t see them from the stands. Or, more likely, it was the ease of his movements, the almost lazy display of strength that brought strongly to mind the broad shoulders under his yellow robes.

“Andie, quit daydreaming, would you?” Narcissa poked a sharp finger between her shoulder blades, jolting her back to reality, and Andromeda’s face darkened at the realization of what her little sister would think if she could hear her thoughts.

She scarcely remembered who she was. How was Andromeda Black meant to behave? What was she supposed to say? She forced her mind to focus, to feign normalcy. “Have you seen the boys yet?”

“Down there,” Narcissa answered, pointing toward a blonde, green-clad boy who stood impatiently at the bottom of the stands. “Hurry up, will you?”

They shuffled down to where a few members of the Slytherin Quidditch team stood milling around. Narcissa ran to her boyfriend immediately, and Lucius wrapped a long arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Where’s Rab?” she asked, shooting Andromeda a pointed look.

“In the changing room, I think,” Lucius shrugged and started nibbling Narcissa’s ear with disgusting affection.

Andromeda’s distaste must have shown, because Narcissa scowled at her and said, in her most commanding, mum-like voice, “Andi, go find him.”

Her dismissal could not have been clearer, and Andromeda strode obediently toward the changing rooms. It was better than watching her little sister snog. She reached her destination and thought to keep walking. After all, she wasn’t the least bit interested in Rabastan Lestrange. Then, like a ripple in still water, she thought of another Quidditch player and stopped. Biting her lip in an effort to hold back her nerves, she turned around and entered the small building.

The door creaked when she opened it. Andromeda walked silently between the lockers, peering cautiously around corners, but neither Rab nor anyone else was anywhere to be found. The room was empty. She leaned against the wall and sighed, torn between relief and disappointment. As she rested, her eyes fell to a nearby bench, where a book lay open. It appeared to be some type of Quidditch playbook, based on the illustrated players who zoomed around the pages demonstrating obscure broom formations and the like. Curious, she picked it up and began flipping idly through the pages.

Only when the quiet deepened did she notice the sound of running water in the showers. She raised her head from the book and looked instinctively around for whoever had caused the noise to cease, confused, until her eyes landed on a mirror in the corner. Her breath stopped. Reflected there, wearing only a towel round his waist, stood the Hufflepuff keeper. Water dripped down his body, droplets pooling in the contours of his well-muscled torso. Her eyes followed the trail of light brown hair on his chest, which ran down his abdomen in a thin line and disappeared below the towel.

 _Bloody hell_.

After a long moment, she managed to move her stare upward to his face, and her heart jumped. The book slipped from her hands and fell to the floor with a thud. He was looking at her, returning her gaze stare for stare in the mirror, and the grin spreading across his face – damn that dimple – was nothing less than devious. Then he was moving. His reflection disappeared, and suddenly there he was, standing right in front of her, quite literally in the flesh. _Ted._

The room seemed very warm, and her eyes struggled in ambivalent desperation. He didn’t say anything at first. He simply stood there, and for Andromeda it was much like the moment of an eclipse, knowing that to look was blindingly dangerous, but awestruck by the sight all the same.

The silence dragged on, and finally, his grin never fading, Ted spoke. “What are you doing?”

Oh, God, how could she possibly answer such a question? Her thoughts tumbled, and the words came out senseless. “I-I’m Andromeda.”

He let slip a kind laugh. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh.”

A pause. “I’m sorry, ‘Dromeda, but you’re standing in front of my locker.”

Her face flushed red immediately, and she stepped shakily aside. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” He took a step closer and Andromeda told herself to turn around and leave, but he was right there, so close. And he was so achingly beautiful, every inch of him surpassing the dreams she would’ve sworn under oath never to have dreamt. Her flush deepening, she dropped her gaze to the floor. He paused. She felt the heat of his eyes running over her, lingering, and then a large hand took hold of her chin and pushed it gently upwards, returning her gaze to his. He held her jaw steady for a moment, to prevent her from turning away. Not that she could have.

Merlin, his lips looked soft.

Something shifted within her, and she exhaled a long breath against his chest. He gulped – an oddly boyish reaction – and although his eyes laughed, his smile grew hungry. Andromeda shivered involuntarily as Ted whispered his question. “Why are you here?”

Somehow the words rose up from within her, the heart of the matter. “We’re almost out of time,” she said.

Ted gave a slow nod. “I see the problem.” His hand crept up her jaw, until he cupped the side of her face warmly in his palm. He kissed her, his lips burning brightly against hers, and when he pulled away, she went cold with disappointment.

He dropped the towel.

“Tonks!” She cried, scandalized, but even as the reprimand escaped her lips, her hands reached out to pull him closer, her fingers running over his taught chest. His dimple deepened with his smile, and this time she was the one to kiss him. He tasted like vanilla mixed with smoke, and suddenly that became the world’s most delectable flavor. As they kissed, her hands crept lower and his higher, teasing her where it counted most, bringing his mouth down to trail along her neckline. Andromeda matched his gasps with trembling breaths of her own. At last her hands reached their destination; she was quickly rewarded for her efforts.

“’Dromeda”—he gasped out—“we should… I think we should stop. It’s too much.” His breathing quickened and she shook her head defiantly. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life and if she didn’t get it now, she probably never would. She couldn’t live with that ache inside her all the time. Truly, the wanting would kill her.

Andromeda disentangled her limbs from his and scrambled haphazardly out of her clothes— _all_ of her clothes. She hadn’t done this before, couldn’t believe her own daring, but it was all she wanted and she was not afraid. Using every bit of her strength, she pulled him toward her, wrapping a leg around his waist. Ted’s eyes blazed in response, and he returned her fervor, pinning her against the nearest bank of lockers. The metal doors were freezing on her bare skin, and she arched her back away from the cold, bringing their bodies even closer together. Ted gave a low growl that spoke plainly of need, and their eyes meant for a moment, a certainty as bold as lightening passing between them.

And then, oblivion. Andromeda had spent so many months trying not to speak his name, and now she found herself repeating it endlessly, the only word in a new and beautiful language. She was flying, higher and higher, so close now. Ted gave a groan that made her glow with joy, and – oh! – this must be it! This was the blinding eclipse, the center of the sun, the end and beginning of the world.

Afterward, she left rather quickly, not knowing how to act or what to say. She smiled at him, her cheek resting on his chest, and stood on tiptoe to give him a proper kiss on the mouth. Then she darted out of the changing room feeling, for the first time in years, like she knew exactly who she was. She felt calm, and happy, and whole.

She thought of Ted again and her face lit up in a smile. Then she thought of Narcissa, of Rabastan, of her family. Her smile faded.

It was true: she had a major problem. It just wasn’t what she’d expected it to be.

**Author's Note:**

> J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse.
> 
> Many thanks to Gina for her help!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love if you let me know what you thought.


End file.
